


Atlas

by WildWolf25



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dysphoria, Fluff, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Shiro is the best bf, Trans Male Character, self-indulgent but inaccurate alien science, seriously this is like the most self-indulgent thing I've written, top surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildWolf25/pseuds/WildWolf25
Summary: The road to transitioning is winding and and uncertain even at the best of times, and only more so when one finds themselves in an intergalactic space war.  Even when his goal has to take a back-seat for a while, Keith refuses to give up, and eventually, he finds a solution where he least expected.





	Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> *squints* How is this my first posted sheith fic? I frickin love sheith, the way they always have each other's backs

Shiro had always been a light sleeper.  It was both a blessing and a curse; a curse whenever Keith tried to sneak out of bed to make him breakfast in bed, only for Shiro to come stumbling out of the bedroom and drape himself over Keith’s back before he could even get the stove turned on.  A blessing, because the one time someone accidentally left an iron on after they pressed their uniform, Shiro was the one to wake up to the smell of smoke and was able to put out the fire before it burned down the small house they shared in the desert.  And a mixed blessing-curse, because Shiro always managed to wake up if Keith shifted around too much in bed.  Sometimes he was able to wake him up from a nightmare, but usually it was something else that was the problem, something that Shiro couldn’t help with. 

He opened his eyes and blinked into the darkness just as Keith, who had been facing him, rolled onto his other side, tugging some of the blankets with him.  Keith threw an arm over a pillow beside him, and settled down only for a few moments before he was shifting onto his stomach.  Another few seconds, then he turned onto his side again, then rolled onto his stomach once more, arms in tight and balled-up fists tucked under his collarbone, burying his face in the pillows.  Moments later, he flopped onto his back with a heavy sigh.  

“Hey,” Shiro’s quiet voice cut through the night air.  “You okay?”

“Fine.”  Keith bit the word out sharply.  Shiro arched an eyebrow at him, clearly not buying it.  Keith sighed again.  “Just can’t get comfortable.”  

Shiro scooted closer and wrapped an arm around his waist, thumb stroking his side.  “Something wrong?”

Keith was quiet for a few moments before speaking.  “I want to sleep on my stomach.”

Shiro blinked.  “So… sleep on your stomach?”  He failed to see the problem here.

Keith turned his head to the side to glare at him.  “Easy for you to say.”  He muttered.  “You don’t have two tumors on your chest that hurt when you lay on them.”

Ah, so that’s what it was.  Shiro sighed.  “Keith, they aren’t tumors.”  

“I don’t want them.”  Keith said.  “I’d cut them off myself, if I could.”

“Keith.”  Shiro’s voice was unusually serious.  Keith faltered.

“I mean, if it wouldn’t kill me, I would.”  He admitted.  “I know… I won’t do it.”  He was quiet for a few moments.  “I don’t think they would let me have surgery if I cut myself there, anyway.”

“Or anywhere else.”  Shiro reminded him.  It was more than just damaging the affected area; if the doctor didn’t think Keith was mentally stable enough to have the surgery, he wouldn’t be allowed to.  

Keith sighed and closed his eyes.  “Just another year or two.  God, why does it have to be so far away?  If it didn’t cost so much, I could do it sooner.”  

Shiro was quiet for a few moments, thumb running over the skin at the bottom of Keith’s t-shirt.  “If you let me help with the cost, you could get it sooner.”  He reminded him.  

Keith shook his head.  “I can’t take your money like that, Shiro.  It’s too much.”

“It’s not like I’ll even be using my paycheck when I’m on the mission.”  Shiro said.  “That stipend is meant to provide for family members.  Otherwise it’s just going to sit in a bank account until I come back.”  

“We’re technically not family.”  Keith pointed out.

“You’re the closest thing I have.”  Shiro said.  

“I don’t think the Garrison would count that.”  Keith said.  “No, I want to earn this myself.  I’ll graduate from the Garrison, get my own job piloting expeditions too, and earn enough money for top surgery, easy peasy.  Piloting jobs pay pretty well, so it’ll only take a couple of years at the most.”  

“That seems like a long time.”  Shiro said.

“A bit.  Longer than I want, but I want it to be ten years ago, so that’s not going to happen.”  Keith said bitterly.  He rolled onto his side and scooted closer.  Shiro lifted an arm and let him tuck himself against his torso, arm thrown over Shiro’s chest.  Shiro could feel him beneath his shirt, pressed against his side.  He curled an arm around Keith and rubbed his back, where he felt the shape of the sports bra Keith refused to sleep without.  Keith sighed heavily, his breath fanning across Shiro’s chest.  “I just want it to stop hurting all the time.”  He said, his voice quiet.  

“All the time?”  Shiro frowned.  “Does it seem like something is wrong?”  

“No.”  Keith sighed.  “Same as ever.  Hurts when I run.  Hurts when I lay on my stomach.  Hurts when I wear my binder too long.  Hurts when I work out.  Hurts when I do  _ anything _ .  And even when it doesn’t actually hurt, it’s just…  _ there _ , and it bothers me so much.”  

“I wish there was something I could do to help.”  Shiro said.  

“Trade me yours.”  Keith said, a hand snaking up to make a grabbing motion at his pecs.  “Your boobs are mine now.”  

Shiro chuckled.  “I don’t think that’s how it works.”  

“Nope, I’m taking ‘em.  Have fun having rocks attached to your chest.” 

“Pretty squishy rocks, then.”  Shiro said, hand sliding from its place on Keith’s back to press under his arm, where the skin changed from taut over his ribs to soft in the front. 

“Don’t  _ poke  _ it.”  Keith grumbled, swatting at his hand. Shiro chuckled and went back to rubbing his back.  Silence settled over them for several moments before Keith sighed and pulled away.  “I’m sorry.  It’s a laying-on-my-back kind of night.”  He apologized, flopping onto his back with a morose pout on his lips.  Shiro rolled onto his side and kissed the pout away.

“This okay?”  He asked, cuddling up to Keith’s side and resting his chin on his shoulder.  

“Yeah.”  Keith tangled his fingers together with the ones of the hand resting on his stomach as his boyfriend made himself comfortable.  He was still itching to sleep on his front, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep with the feeling that his chest was just so...  _ there _ , so prominent.  The mere presence of it frustrated him beyond belief.  He closed his eyes.  “Just a couple more years…” he whispered, a promise to himself.  Shiro leaned up to kiss the spot right below his ear before laying down again.  

～～～～～  

It took a while for the realization to fully settle in.  Keith felt many things when he heard that Shiro’s mission had been lost; denial whispering that this couldn’t be happening, anger seething in his blood that the Garrison wasn’t doing  _ anything  _ about it, sadness punching through him that his boyfriend, the only person who he had loved, the only thing close to family he had ever had, was just… gone.  The long days and longer nights without Shiro that Keith had faced alone with only the thought that eventually he would come back only got longer and lonelier now that there was no end in sight.  He had so many other things to think about and worry about that it took a while for him to realize that with Shiro, his chance for surgery had slipped away from his grasp.  

Even if he managed to get the money together and pass all the tests to be allowed to have surgery, he needed someone to take care of him post-op.  Someone to help him when he couldn’t lift his arms up, someone who could help him wash his hair and get dressed and empty his drains.  That person was going to be Shiro; they had already talked about it, done all the research and Shiro knew exactly what he was getting into.  This was a major surgery, and Keith couldn’t do it alone.  

Now, he was alone.  

There was no one else he could turn to, even if he did manage to earn enough money.  He had no parents, no other family.  He knew people at the Garrison, of course, classmates and his flight simulator teammates, but although he talked to them sometimes, he certainly didn’t know them well enough to ask any of them for this big of a favor.  He didn’t  _ trust  _ them like he did Shiro.  

His dream only slipped further away when he got kicked out of the Garrison.  It really wasn’t his fault; some dumbass punk had been bad-mouthing the Kerberos crew, and he had ended up punching the guy square in the jaw.  How was he supposed to know that was Iverson’s kid?  Iverson had not been amused and had expelled him on the spot, and Keith had snapped.  He stole a hovercraft and flew it far away, back to the shack in the desert where he had lived since aging out of the foster care program, where he and Shiro used to live together.  He had kicked at the sand and screamed into the empty desert because it just wasn’t  _ fair _ , it wasn’t fair that everything was being taken away from him; first his boyfriend, then his shot at graduating and getting a job… that surgery was so far out of his reach that he could hardly see it.

He didn’t give up.  Keith Kogane  _ did not _ give up.  It might take longer, but that would just give him time to think of a solution for the post-op caregiver situation.  No one would be as good as Shiro, but he had to think of something.  Maybe he could even get through it on his own; put everything he would need at waist-level and just try his best, deal with the pain or maybe sacrifice his hygiene a bit for a few weeks while he healed.  He lived alone in the desert; who cared if his hair got greasy because he couldn’t lift his arms up to wash his hair for a couple of weeks?  He would have time to think of something, since it would now take longer to get the funds.

He did odd jobs in various towns that were near the desert; repairing cars, painting houses, shingling, sealing windows against the sandstorms… he got a few jobs delivering things -- letters and some packages that he didn’t dare ask about the contents of -- and he liked those jobs because someone was essentially paying him to ride his hovercraft at top speed across the desert, one of the few joys he still had in life.  A few months after successfully running something for one customer in particular, he was given a new assignment: go into the caves in the mountains around the desert and find some pottery pieces, and a collector would pay him very well for bringing them back.  He knew it was wrong, but he needed the money, and he knew if he didn’t do this he would risk losing this customer in the future.  So he scouted around in the caves.  The first one he looked in seemed really promising; there were strange carvings of lions etched into the walls of the cave, but no matter how hard he looked, he didn’t find any other signs of ancient peoples living there, just a strange energy that seemed to draw him in.  He pushed the feeling aside and found pottery pieces a few caves later.  He was indeed paid well, but even looking at the money he had earned (a decent chunk of it had to go toward food), it was obvious that he still had a long way to go.

～～～～～  

Once he found Shiro again, his own goal ended up taking a backseat to the whole defending the universe thing for a while.  Between rescuing Shiro from the Garrison with three other people he had never met (including a self-proclaimed ‘rival’), finding the blue lion, flying it out to space, discovering the Alteans, locating the rest of the lions, and being tasked with becoming a paladin of Voltron, he didn’t have time to think about the implications this new turn of his life would have on his goal.  It wasn’t until he peeled off his binder and laid down in bed that first night in the castle that he realized it.  

The tables had turned; he had his boyfriend back, which meant that in addition to being reunited with the only person he had ever loved and trusted, a huge part of his heart, he also had his post-op caregiver back.  The only problem was that now, he was away from any source of money, and he wasn’t even in the same galaxy as doctors who could perform the surgery.  

He balled his fist up and punched it into the mattress, then grabbed his pillow and hugged it tightly.  He wondered if Shiro would be okay sleeping together again, or if he needed some time alone after everything he had been through.  Shiro definitely looked like he needed some rest, and he didn’t want to be a bother to him.  He turned the matter over and over in his mind for several minutes before a knock on the door surprised him.  He grabbed his jacket and put it on to hide his chest a little better, just in case it was one of the others, but when he opened the door, it was Shiro that was standing there.  

“Hey,” Shiro rubbed the back of his neck.  “I, um… we didn’t really get much time to talk, with everything that happened, and… I…”  He trailed off, reaching out for Keith uncertainly.  He hesitated, looking down at his cyborg right hand, then something like pain flashed across his face and he drew his hand back.  “I’m sorry, Keith.”  

Keith reached out and carefully took hold of his hand. The metal was cold under his skin, and the thought that Shiro’s arm was simply  _ gone  _ unnerved him a little, but he knew Shiro had to be more freaked out about it than he was, and he wanted to reassure him.  He took his other hand too, lacing their fingers together.  “I’m glad to see you again.”  

Shiro’s expression softened and he pulled his hands out of Keith’s only to wrap him in a hug.  Keith didn’t know how long they stood there, holding each other and just taking comfort in feeling each other’s arms around each other, their hearts beating in tandem between them.  Keith felt relaxed and at ease in a way that he hadn’t in a year, ever since Shiro had disappeared.  

“Can I sleep here?”  Shiro asked, his voice quiet.  

“Of course,” Keith tightened his arms around him in reassurance.  

They would have time to talk later.  For now, they were content to just squeeze themselves into Keith’s bed with limbs wrapped around each other, providing a warmth that seeped into the cracks of their broken souls.  Shiro’s head was tucked under Keith’s chin, nose pressed to his heart.  Before he drifted off to sleep, Keith realized that he was fine with this; he could put his own goal on the back burner, even deal with the thought of never reaching it, as long as he could have Shiro back.  It soothed one of the aches in his chest, the emotional one in his heart.  The physical ache, he could deal with.  

～～～～～  

Keith knew that it would be foolish to assume that just because Shiro was back, that everything would be okay.  He had been missing, had been a Galra prisoner for a whole year, and his arm was gone, for goodness’ sake.  So Keith wasn’t surprised when he woke up in the early hours of the morning to Shiro tense in his arms and restless, eyelids twitching as his closed eyes saw god only knew what in his dreams.  Keith touched his shoulder and his heart ached when Shiro flinched.  

“Shiro… Shiro, wake up,” Keith said quietly, rubbing his shoulder.  Shiro let out a whimper and hid his face in Keith’s chest, and for once Keith let him.  “Shiro… baby, wake up… Takashi, I’ve got you, you’re safe now…” Keith rubbed a circle between his shoulderblades with his palm, keeping his voice soft.  

Shiro’s breath hitched and he tensed suddenly, eyes opening.  “Keith?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Keith hugged him.  “I’ve got you.”  

Shiro sighed and his body relaxed again, the tension bleeding out of him slowly as he focused on Keith’s hand rubbing his back.  He nosed at Keith’s collarbone let out a shaky breath that fanned over his chest.  Irritation at anything, let alone his boyfriend’s face, being that close to his chest flickered briefly in the back of his mind, but he quickly stamped it down, guilt settling heavily in his stomach.  He was supposed to be focusing on Shiro right now, not thinking about his own discomfort.  He doubted his own dysphoria could even hold a candle to the hell that Shiro had faced during his year with the Galra, he reasoned.  Surely, that had to have been what his nightmare was about.  

“Do you want to talk about it?”  Keith asked after a few minutes.  

“I… I don’t think I can.”  Shiro said slowly.  “I don’t… I don’t even remember what I was dreaming about.”

“Really?”  Keith looked down at him.  “You seemed like you were really freaked out.”

“Yeah… all I remember is feeling this sense of danger, like life-or-death, but I don’t actually remember what it was.”  Shiro sounded confused.  “I wonder if it’s connected to the reason I can’t remember much from the past year.”

“Maybe.”  Keith acknowledged.  

A few minutes later, Keith was on the verge of drifting off to sleep again when Shiro leaned up and kissed the corner of his lips.  “Go back to sleep.  I’m going to take a walk around the castle for a bit, shake this dream off.”

“I’ll come with you.” Keith started to sit up, but Shiro pushed him back down and shook his head.

“No, stay here.  Please, I need some time to think.”  Shiro said quietly.  Keith studied him for a few moments, then nodded.

“Alright.  I’ll keep the bed warm for you, so come back, okay?”  Keith said.  Taking time for oneself, he could certainly understand, but he didn’t want Shiro to go off and sulk all alone, not when he had someone here to comfort him when he needed it.  

“I will.”  Shiro smiled.  

Keith had only been asleep for a few minutes when the princess woke everyone up with an alarm test, and then it was a full day of paladin training until he could get Shiro back in his bed.  

～～～～～  

It had been nearly a year since they had become paladins of Voltron, and Keith had pretty much resigned himself to the knowledge that he had about as much chance at having top surgery as he did seeing Zarkon dance the macarena to their front door and give himself up.  He had no money, no downtime to try and earn money, was light-years away from Earth and any doctors, and there was no way he would be able to take a month or so off from being a paladin to heal from the surgery; they couldn’t even go a couple of days without having to hop into their lions to fight some battle or free some planet.  This war didn’t have an end in sight, and he knew that he wouldn’t stand a chance of being able to have surgery until it was.  

After the fiasco the last time they went to a space mall, in which they had somehow ended up with a cow on their ship and a lifetime ban from that particular mall, Coran was hesitant to let the rest of them accompany him on his trip to find a few more parts for something that needed repairing on the ship, but in the end he decided that it would go quicker if they all helped him look for it.  Admittedly, Keith got a little lost in the jargon during Coran’s explanation, even though Hunk and Pidge were eagerly nodding along.  He just knew he was supposed to keep an eye out for some kind of pipe about as long as his arm made out out of something blue and sparkly.  

They all split up, and Keith wandered around one section of the mall searching for the pipe-thing.  He made sure to steer clear of the knife salesman, even though it was a different one than before.  He was just beginning to wonder the likelihood of actually finding an object that he wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what it even was when he noticed a sign out of the corner of his eye.  It appeared to be written in many different alien languages, based on the variety of symbols on it, but it was the English that caught his attention:   _ 1-varga plastic surgery! _

He frowned and waded through the sea of alien shoppers to get to the window of the store.  A smaller sign below the first one offered an explanation.   _ The Noele’mahc are well-known for their advancements in plastic surgery.  Combined with the speedy recovery of cryogenic healing pods, we are proud to offer any number of appearance-altering surgeries in a fraction of the time it would take just a few decaphoebes ago!  Our services are available to aliens of any species and any language.   _

Heart pounding in his chest, Keith pushed open the glass door of the shop.  Inside was a tiny reception room that was empty save for a slender, blue-skinned alien with eight arms.  The alien looked up when he entered.  “Greetings.  Earthling, are you?  We don’t see much of your kind this far from your solar system.  What can I do for you?”  

“How does this plastic surgery thing work?”  Keith asked.

“It’s a simple process.  You just fill out some paperwork, pay a deposit, tell us what you want to change, and we do it.”  The alien pulled out a file folder from the shelf behind them with one hand, a pen from the jar on the desk with another, and pointed to a door in the back of the shop with a third.  “The operating room is back there, as well as the cryotubes for healing.  And don’t be mistaken by our location in a mall; everything is up to standard medical code of the Intergalactic Plastic Surgeon Association and all of our surgeons are licensed and certified.  We just like to be accessible.  And, you know, competitive business, since there are so many clinics.”

“How much does it cost?”  Keith asked.

“That depends on what you want done.”  The alien flipped open the file, pointing with a few of its hands to several before-and-after photographs.  “Adding limbs costs more than removing them.  Making you shorter costs less than making you taller.  Skin pigmentation is generally the cheapest, but it depends on how much you want done.  Internal work usually costs more than surface work.”

“What about a double mastectomy?”  Keith asked.  

The alien arched an eyebrow.  “You hardly look like you need one.”  They said, eyes dropping to his chest.

“I’m wearing something that hides it.”  He explained.  “How much would that cost?”  

“Hm,” the alien flipped a few more pages and pointed to another set of pictures.  “For something like this, four-thousand GAC.”  The first picture was a shot of an alien’s torso, with something akin to breasts.  The picture beside it was the same alien, this time with two neat scars underneath their now-flat chest.

Keith felt his heart sink.  That was four-thousand more GAC than he had.  “I don’t have the money for it right now.”  He admitted.  “If I can come up with the money, can I come back?”  

“Sure.”  The alien reached one hand across the desk and plucked a business card out of a stack.  “Here’s our communications number for this store.  There’s also a number for our Intergalactic database and home planet offices, if your travels take you elsewhere.  But for the sake of my job, I’d prefer if you just came back here.”  

Keith took the card.  Even as he looked at it, the alien letters faded and came back as English.  “Thank you.”  He said.  “I’ll definitely come back, if I can.”  

“Hope to see you around, then.”  The alien waved with two hands while another put the file away and the rest turned back to their keyboard. 

～～～～～  

Coran ended up being the one who found his pipe-thing he was looking for, which worked out, as Keith and Shiro still weren’t entirely sure what it was they were looking for, and Pidge, Lance, and Hunk got distracted in a second-hand electronics store buying parts to make a projection screen so they could play the video game Pidge and Lance had bought last time.  Once they were back on the ship, Keith sought out the princess.

“Allura?”  He found her on the bridge, holding a flashlight for Coran while he lay half-inside a panel of the wall with a toolkit by his side, putting the tube he had bought in place.

“Yes?”  She asked, looking at him while still keeping the flashlight where Coran needed it. 

“Have you ever heard of the Noele’mahc?”  He asked.  She blinked, as if taken aback by the question, and a sharp  _ bang  _ came from inside the wall before Coran emerged.

“Why do you want to know about the Noele’mahc?”  He asked, narrowing his eyes at the red paladin.  

“I just… saw it written somewhere.  Was curious what it was.”  Keith hedged.  

“Well, it’s not a question of what, but whom,” Allura said.  “The Noele’mahc are a species of alien from the Southern Seana galaxy, a planet called D’naliatina.  They’re famous for their advancements in medical care.  They were the ones to invent cryopod healing, actually.”  

“They’re also pretty well-known for going a bit too far when it comes to medicine.”  Coran muttered, searching through his tool box.  

“What do you mean?”  Keith asked, nerves tying a knot in his stomach.  Had it been too good to be true?

“It’s unnatural, what they do.”  Coran frowned at what looked like a triple-headed screwdriver.  

“What Coran means is,” Allura explained.  “Alteans believe that altering one’s body goes against their nature.  Other alien species, like the Noele’mahc, don’t share the same view.”

“Hang on, aren’t Alteans the ones who can change their appearance at will?”  Keith crossed his arms.  

“Only to a certain extent, and the changes are never permanent.”  Allura said.  “And what we can do is natural, it’s something that our bodies are capable of.  But using surgery to go beyond what the body is capable of… it just feels wrong, to many Alteans.”  

“Many of them do it far too often, too.”  Coran added.  “Lopping off limbs one quintant, sticking them back on a fortnight later… it’s just absurd.  At some point, is it even still their own body?”  

Allura sighed.  “Older generations tend to take more of an issue with their practices.”

“I’m not old!”  Coran protested, ducking back into the wall with his triple-headed screwdriver.  

“So aside from that stigma, there’s nothing objectively wrong with what they do?”  Keith clarified.  “Everything’s safe, technically?”  

“Well, yes.”  Allura admitted.  “There’s a bit of concern about having multiple surgeries, though I would imagine it would be little different from doing the same on Earth.”

“But just one is fine?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”  She tilted her head, studying him.  “Why do you ask?”  

“No reason.”  Keith said quickly.  He didn’t want anyone to find out.  “Just trying to learn a bit more about alien cultures.”

“If that’s the case, then might I suggest studying Aidniian culture,” Coran said, his voice echoing a bit from within the wall.  “They’re one of the oldest planets in the universe, and their art and literature is simply stunning.  Why there’s this one book, the--”

“Actually, I need to go meet up with Pidge on the training deck for sparring practice.”  Keith said hastily.  “But I’ll look into that.  Thanks for the info.”

～～～～～ 

It wasn’t easy to earn money in space.  Being a paladin of Voltron didn’t exactly come with a paycheck.  Every couple of months, he managed to slip off to another space mall and sell some of his possessions from Earth at pawn shops or swap moons.  The most successful sales he made were on planets that didn’t know a lot about Earth, so he was able to make things seem like they were worth more than they were.  One time, he even managed to convince a pawn shop to buy an eraser for fifty GAC by spinning a story that it was made from highly valuable rubber from a sacred tree in a forest and that usually only Earthling royalty owned them.  Sometimes he was even able to sell information about Earth to curious aliens, earning a couple hundred GAC for telling them about Earthling traditions like Christmas and the story of ET, which the other aliens found highly amusing.  Once, a scale-covered alien paid him sixty GAC just to feel his hair, leading to a very uncomfortable five-minute head massage that left Keith feeling oddly violated.  He was glad no one asked for that again.  

The going was slow, and it took another year and a half to accumulate the funds he needed plus a little extra, in case there was space taxes he hadn’t accounted for or the price had changed.  He even managed to find a Intergalactic Bank on one planet that was willing to change the money he had saved up on Earth into GAC coins, which was a big relief.  When he added that to the money he had scraped together, he found he had 4,137 GAC.  That might not be enough, if space taxes were a thing, but he really didn’t want to wait anymore.  If it wasn’t enough, they would tell him, and he would have to wait and try again.  But if it was enough… god, his heart felt lighter just thinking about it.

He entered the Galactic Code Number on the business card he had from that one space mall and found that it was actually pretty close by.  That was surprising -- the universe was huge, and they seldom ended up going near the same quadrant twice -- but he took that as a sign that now was the time to do this.  He cleared the navigation system and went to search for Shiro.  

He managed to find him in his room, reading something on a tablet.  He looked up when Keith knocked.

“Oh, hey,” he gave him a bemused look.  “What’s with the smile?  Something good happen?”

“Shiro, I did it,” Keith couldn’t stop grinning.  “I think I found a way to have top surgery.”

Shiro blinked.  “Really?  But… how?”  

He showed Shiro the business card.  “I found this place about a year and a half ago.  These aliens are apparently really famous for plastic surgery, and they use cryopods to speed up the healing process.  The whole thing can be done in about an hour.”

Shiro frowned.  “Are you sure?  One-hour places are great for t-shirts and photocopies, but… surgery?  Is it safe?”  

“Yeah, I’ve been looking into it.”  Keith nodded.  “It’s expensive, but I’ve been saving up money and I finally have enough, and we happen to be pretty close to the place right now.  I could fly my lion there, have it done, and be back by dinnertime.  I’m… god, Shiro, I’m so close, I can practically feel it.”  He paused.  “Will you… will you come with me?  The cryotube is supposed to heal everything up really quick, but just in case, I might need some help piloting back.”  

“Of course,” Shiro stood up.  “Of course I’ll come with you.  I’m just… you’re sure about this?”

Keith gave him a flat look.  “Seriously?”

“No, I know you don’t have any doubts about the outcome,” Shiro said quickly.  “But you’re sure the method is safe?”  

“I’ve done all the research I can.”  Keith said.  “I have to try, at least.”  

Shiro’s expression softened into a smile.  “Okay.  I’m happy for you, Keith.”  He pulled him into a hug.  “Are you planning on telling the others?”  

“I… wasn’t.”  Keith admitted quietly.  “It’s not that I think they’ll change how they see me -- they didn’t with Pidge -- but… I don’t want anyone trying to talk me out of it.  I’ve known what I want for so long, I’m certain of it.  It’s not really anyone’s business but mine, I think.”  

Shiro nodded, understanding.  “Okay.  We should at least let Allura know we’ll be gone for a few hours.  Just so she isn’t looking for us.”  

“Alright.”  Keith acknowledged.  He could accept that.  

They told Allura they wanted to take the lions out for a quick spin to work on some evasive maneuvers, and that they shouldn’t be gone for more that a few vargas.  When she asked if the rest of the paladins were joining them, they hastily made up an excuse about not wanting to disturb the rest of them, since Pidge and Hunk were working on something and they were pretty sure Lance was taking a nap.  

When they got down to the hangers, Shiro put a hand on Keith’s shoulder as he headed for his lion.  “Let’s just take one.  That will be easier, if it turns out you can’t pilot afterward.”  

“Good idea,” Keith nodded.  “Just in case the rule about not operating heavy machinery after surgery turns out to be true.”  

“Yeah, I’d say the lions qualify as heavy machinery.”  Shiro chuckled.  Keith gave him the business card, and he entered the coordinates into the Black Lion’s system before they took off.  They flew in silence for a few minutes before Shiro felt something rocking the pilot seat where Keith was leaning on it.  “Are you bouncing on your feet?”  He asked, amused.

“No.”  Keith firmly planted his heels on the floor.  “Well, maybe a little.  I’m excited, okay?”

Shiro chuckled.  He paused, then spoke up again.  “Are you nervous?”  

Keith thought about it.  “A little.  More excited than nervous, though.”  

“You know you’ll have scars.”  Shiro reminded him gently.

“I know.”  Keith said.  “I’d rather have scars than what I have there now.”  

Shiro nodded.  He knew better than to ask if Keith was sure about this.  He knew Keith was well aware of what he was getting into, having done all that research even before Shiro had left for Kerberos.  Shiro tipped his head back and took one hand off the controls to draw Keith down for a kiss.  “I love you.”

Keith smiled.  “I love you too.”

A low rumble resonated through the cockpit and Shiro chuckled as he felt Black nudge his consciousness like a cat bumping against him.  “Alright, I get it, hands on the wheel.”  

“Don’t mack and drive.”  Keith teased.  

“That was hardly making out.”  Shiro said.  

It didn’t take them long to get to the space mall, and once they got inside, Keith practically dragged Shiro by the hand as he hurried through the crowds to where the shop was.  The alien at the desk -- who this time was green and had three arms instead of eight, and an extra eye on the back of their head -- was speaking with an alien with rainbow-patterned scales and a glittery horn on the top of their head.  The eye on the back of the receptionist’s head looked at him as soon as they came in, and they paused in the middle of what he telling the customer to say “ah, so you did come back.  Be with you in a moment” without turning around.  They finished up their explanation in what sounded vaguely like Klingon mixed with odd croaking noises, the other alien nodding periodically.  When the rainbow-scaled alien left, the receptionist turned to Keith.  “I was beginning to think you might not come back.”  

“Nope, just needed to get the money.”  Keith said.  “Is it still the same price?”

“Yes, four-thousand even.”  The alien opened up a file and took out some paperwork with two hands, the third reaching for a pen.  “Two-thousand of it will need to be paid up front as a deposit, the rest can be paid upon completion.  Please read these forms and sign them.”  

“Huh, that’s in English?”  Shiro looked over Keith’s shoulder.  

“We pride ourselves on our accessibility.”  The alien told him.  “Besides, nearly everyone in the Milky Way Galaxy either takes Martian or Earthling English as a foreign language in school, it’s fairly well-known.”

Keith read through the forms carefully, but nothing seemed to be out of line or odd about the procedure and legal details.  It didn’t seem to be any different than an Earth doctor operating under the informed consent policy.  He signed his name, then pressed his thumb to the digital square next to the signature box as the alien directed and let it scan his fingerprint.  He handed over the two-thousand GAC deposit, then gave the rest of his money to Shiro to hold onto for him.  Shiro drew him into another long hug before smiling and wishing him good luck.  Keith took a deep breath and followed the alien through the door.

The alien had him take off his clothes in a small changing room and put on what looked like a pair of nurse’s scrubs, the two sides of the shirt crossing over each other and tying at the side so that it could be opened for the surgery.  

“Earthling bodies are so dreadfully plain.”  The alien remarked as they took their tools out of a sanitizing machine.  “You’re sure you wouldn’t like some skin coloring too?  You’d look quite nice in purple.”  

“Nope, just the mastectomy.”  Keith said firmly.

“Suit yourself.”  The alien shrugged, putting on a pair of rubber gloves.  “Lie down on that table.”  

Keith did so, and squinted against the bright light above the table.  The alien held up what looked like a face mask with a tube connected to it.  “This is just some anesthesia.  The operation will take about thirty doboshes, and then you’ll be placed in a cryotube for another thirty doboshes to a varga, but you shouldn’t need that long for something this simple.  When you wake up, you’ll have the body you’ve always dreamed of.”

Keith grinned.  “Alright.  Let’s do it.”  

～～～～～ 

When Keith came to, the first thing he felt was the intense chill of being in the cryopod.  He couldn’t move, but it only took a tick for the system to register his heart rate and brain activity levels as awake, and there was a whir as the pod opened.  Keith shivered and opened his eyes, finally able to move.  The first thing he saw was Shiro, standing up from where he had been seated on a chair in the corner of the cryotube room.  He moved forward to help steady Keith as he stepped out of the pod, wobbling a little bit.  “Hey,” Shiro smiled.  “How do you feel?”

“Fine, a little cold.”  Keith looked down, and felt his heart jump.  The front of his chest was flat underneath the hospital shirt.  He pulled the collar away and looked down the shirt, and a sound that was half a gasp, half a laugh made its way out of him.  Two scars were barely visible underneath his pecs, looking like they had been healing for years to the point of almost disappearing.  He untied the shirt with shaking fingers and opened the front to get a better look, his eyes widening.  He couldn’t stop staring at it, or smiling.  “I can’t believe… oh my god, Shiro, I finally… I can’t believe this is finally happening…”

Shiro smiled.  “You look great.”  

“I  _ feel  _ great.”  He felt lighter, like a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  Not even just in a physical sense; his emotions felt like they were bubbling up inside him, he felt like his heart was flying, like he might float away if he didn’t have Shiro here to anchor him.

“People’s reactions to their first time are always so funny,” the alien said, stepping forward.  “The novelty wears off after the fifth time or so.  Now, lift your arms, slowly.”  

Keith did so.  The skin felt strange, like it was brand new, and it hurt a little to put his hands above his head.  The alien examined the scars, poking them and feeling the skin around them, and asked him about what he could feel, then had him lower his arms.  “The soreness should fade after a few days.  Or, you can go back in the cryotube until there’s no pain left, but it isn’t necessary so it will cost extra.”  

“I’m fine how it is.”  Keith said.  He could take it easy for a day or two.  That was nothing compared to the four to six weeks he had originally planned this taking.  

“Well then, here are your clothes.  You can get changed in that dressing room, and come out to the front when you’re finished to pay.”  The alien handed him the basket with his clothes folded up in it from when he had taken them off.  Shiro waited for him while he got changed.

“Looks like you don’t need that anymore.”  Shiro nodded to the binder in Keith’s hand when he emerged from the dressing room.  

“Good riddance.”  Keith breathed a sigh of relief.  The binder had long been a source of mental comfort for him, but it hadn’t always been comfortable to wear.  Not having to wear it anymore was the best feeling ever, second only to the funny jolt he got whenever he looked down at himself.  He folded up the binder and tucked it into one of the packs he wore on his hips.

Shiro took his hand as they headed out the door to the waiting room.  “I’m happy for you, Keith.”  He said, squeezing his hand.  

Keith grinned broadly.  “I’m pretty happy, too.”  

Shiro chuckled at that and kissed his cheek.  

After he had paid the other part of the money, he and Shiro went back to the Black Lion and headed back to the castle.  Keith insisted that he was fine, but Shiro made him sit down on the floor behind the pilot’s seat, saying that he didn’t want him to fall over and pull anything loose.  

“There aren’t even stitches to pull loose!”  Keith said, but he did it anyway.  He did feel a little sore, and very tired.  He was still a little cold, too.  He could do with a cuddle session and a nap when they got back.  

He ended up dozing off, leaning against the back of the pilot’s chair.  Shiro woke him up with a touch to his shoulder and softly calling his name.  “Keith, we’re back.  Want me to carry you to your bed?”

Keith yawned into his hand.  “No, I’ll walk.”  He didn’t want anyone to see him and freak out, thinking he had gotten injured.  He just wanted to get back to his room and sleep, preferably with Shiro next to him.  Luckily, they seemed to be on the same brainwave there, and Shiro walked with him back to his room and followed him inside.  When Keith sat down on the edge of his bed and bent down to take his boots off, he grimaced.  It wasn’t so much pain as it was a dull ache that pinched right where the scars were, like the new skin there was aggravated from all the movement. 

“Here, let me.”  Shiro knelt down and unzipped his boots before sliding them off.  

“Thanks.”  Keith smiled.  

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for.”  Shiro said, setting them off to the side.  “I’ve done very few of my post-op boyfriend duties so far, you know.  Really just was there when you woke up and drove you home.”  He stood up and helped Keith carefully slide his arms out of his jacket, trying to keep him from moving the sore muscles there too much.  “Although, if I’m being honest, I’m really glad you don’t have drains.  That was the one part that I was really worried about.”  

“What, can’t handle the sight of blood?”  Keith asked, unbuckling his belt.  Shiro rolled his eyes and slid the belt off, setting it on the desk next to his jacket.  

“I was more worried about the potential for infection.  But I admit blood made it a little scarier, yes.”  He said.  

“I’m glad there aren’t drains too.”  Keith agreed.  They sounded painful, or at least uncomfortable.  He scooted back until he was up near the pillows, paused, then flopped down on his stomach.  “Ohhh man, that’s nice.”  He sighed.  There was a little bit of soreness there, but he could finally lay on his stomach without crushing anything.  He groaned.  “Shiro, you’ve gotta try this, it’s so good.”  

“I have,” Shiro chuckled at him.  He didn’t see what the big deal was, but he also didn’t have any experience trying to sleep with boobs, either.  From his understanding of it, it didn’t seem comfortable.  

“This feels so good.”  Keith hummed.  “This is the best day ever.  So amazing.”  

A couple of dull thuds pounded on the wall next to him.  “Quit having sex!”  Lance shouted through the wall.  

Keith pounded the wall with his fist.  “We’re not!”  He shouted back.  Shiro laughed and got into bed beside him.  “Hey, can you help me turn over?”  

“Sure,” Shiro carefully maneuvered him onto his back.  “Does it hurt?”

“Just a little sore.”  Keith said.  “Kind of like a pulled muscle, or that skin-sore feeling you get before you come down with a fever.”  

Shiro pushed his bangs out of the way and laid his cheek on Keith’s forehead.  “You don’t feel warm.”  

“No, it only feels like that around the chest area.”  Keith said.  

“Tell me if anything starts hurting more.”  Shiro told him.  Keith hummed quietly in agreement and laced their fingers together, closing his eyes with a smile.  He was tired right now, but he was already coming up with a list of things he wanted to finally do now that he had achieved his goal.  Sleep on his front was number one on the list -- had been for years.  Number two would be to run, to sprint up and down the corridors of the castle without feeling the ache in his chest or pain with every step.  Maybe even throw in some jumping jacks.  Number three on his list would probably be just looking at himself in the mirror, to be honest, or even walking around shirtless.  He still couldn’t quite believe that this had actually happened, that every time he looked at himself he looked so  _ right _ , after avoiding his reflection for so many years.  He had been waiting for this day for as long as he could remember.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure self-indulgence at it’s finest. TBH I wrote it at a point in my life where it looked like I might not ever be able to have top surgery, due to a myriad of reasons, and this was half venting, half self-indulgent. It’s not really my best writing but I’m posting it now, in celebration of being 200 days away from my own top surgery (I’m SO EXCITED). I had to do a lot of searching on my own and hit a number of dead-ends, and it certainly won’t be as easy of a process as I self-indulgently wrote for Keith in this fic, but it’s going to be POSSIBLE. 
> 
> On the off chance that anyone reading this is looking to transition (ftm/mtf/nb/etc.) and lives in the Asia/Oceania region (most of my info is about Japan but I came across a couple other resources for the area) and wants more information, since I know a lot of information is mostly US-centric, shoot me a message on my [tumblr](wildwolf25.tumblr.com) and I’ll point you in the direction of some resources (might not be able to answer everything but I’ll try to help)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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